


We Play

by leadernovaandthemacabre



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Cock Warming, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dom Lance (Voltron), Explicit Consent, Friends With Benefits, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Performance Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Sexting, Sub Keith (Voltron), Voyeurism, flexible negotiations, light humiliation, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2020-02-09 16:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leadernovaandthemacabre/pseuds/leadernovaandthemacabre
Summary: The world has the notion that Keith and Lance were placed on God’s green earth to be little else than enemies.It’s simply not true.





	1. Play

“Keith’ll take me home. Ain’t that right, mullet?”

Keith grunted, though he gave Lance the stink eye.

Shiro was worried. Despite elated they had put their differences aside for the evening to celebrate his birthday, if he knew Keith, or Lance for that matter, it was just a delay of the inevitable. Keith’s passive barbs and Lance’s aggressive slurs had been accumulating since they arrived five hours ago.

Their dynamic was necessary for the mood of their group. As Hunk and Pidge were destined to spiral into technical language, as Allura and Coran were destined to laugh from their own internal jokes, as Matt and Adam were destined to have fun at Shiro’s expense (properly milking the role of ex-boyfriends), so too were Keith and Lance destined to be at one another’s throats.

Shiro wasn’t the only one who thought so, apparently.

“Ah,” Coran looped his arm around Lance’s shoulders, “why don’t I take you home, my boy?”

Lance laughed, “Because you live on the other side of the city, Coran. Keith literally drives by my place.”

Hunk volunteered second, with similar results.

Allura volunteered third, with similar results.

Pidge did not volunteer. Her pastime was watching the world burn.

Shiro looked at Keith, who was waiting three steps away. He’d said his goodbyes and was looking increasingly taciturn the longer Lance deflected everyone’s offers. At the moment Shiro was certain he couldn’t look more put out, Lance wove their arms together and… _Jesus_. If looks could kill.

“Are you guys going to be alright?” Shiro asked point blank.

Keith looked him in the eye, but stayed unreadable. _Dammit,_ Shiro thought, _he’s too experienced a liar._

“I’m not going to murder Lance and dump him in the ditch on the crossroads of Main and Juniberry, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Specific,” Pidge grunted. “Send pictures.”

“Sure.”

Lance blanched.

Shiro lifted his good hand to see them off, something curious settling in his gut.

When he’d disappeared from Keith’s rear view mirror ten minutes later Lance murmured, “Shiro’s onto us.”

“He knows us too well,” Keith shifted gears with a subtle grunt Lance could never admit he found sexy.

“Years of tutoring us through com college, I guess.”

Keith smirked. They paused at the intersection Keith threatened to dump his body in. He eyed the ditch, half covered by thorny brush, and felt his mood sour as his gears turned. “Keith…”

“Hm.”

“You’ve told me a thousand times but tell me again—why aren’t we telling them that we play?”

“Because it’s none of their business,” Keith returned easily, patiently. “If it’s _really_ eating you—given that it’s the sixth time you’re asking—then you can tell them. But I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Because you’d rather be caught dead than admit you’ve been having sex with me?”

A pause.

“Lance, look at me.”

Begrudgingly, he did. The lights flickered to green but Keith’s eyes stayed on his, fierce and unrepentant. “I absolutely do _not_ regret playing with you. Ever. But my sex life isn’t for others to know. I feel comfortable in my privacy.” A car horn behind them sounded, Keith didn’t budge. “And you know why.”

“I know why, but they’re not some sadistic ex-boyfriend sharing nudes without your permission. They’re our—can you please drive, you’re making me nervous—they’re our _friends._ They’d never do that to you.”

Keith drove, but for the first time he looked a little sad as he looked away. “I know. I _know._ I just. I’m. _Ugh.”_

Lance put his hand on Keith’s nape and stroked apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

“No—no, it’s me. I know you prefer to be discreet. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s stupid. I should’ve gotten over it by now.”

“Take your time. It’s wrong of me to force you.”

“But you’re not wrong.”

“Look, it’s not my place,” Lance sighed. “When _you’re_ ready, _if_ you’re ever ready, you can tell whoever you like. I came into this knowing that you wanted to keep it on the down low. I’ll respect that agreement.”

Keith’s fingers twitched on a turn. “If you want to tell Hunk you can.”

Lance eyed him.

“ _But no-one else.”_

Lance hesitated. He dropped his hand and said, “No, no. I won’t.”

“You just said—”

“I know what I said. But no, you have your reasons and I respect that. I _should_ respect that. I’m sorry I pushed.”

Keith smiled bitterly, “Make up your mind.”

“Sorry,” Lance turned to the window. “You know I think while I talk.”

“Yet we love you anyway.”

Lance hit him. The truck swerved.

“I am _driving!”_

They reached Lance’s complex in one piece. Keith greeted Mrs. Gonzales and offered to take out her trash while Lance meandered up the stairs. Keith let himself in a few minutes later, made a B-line for the kitchen sink where he scrubbed his hands and gloves to kingdom come. He pinned them up in the bathroom where Lance was brushing his teeth.

“Where’d you move the mouthwash to this time?”

“Hin ‘a hakhak sli.”

Keith ducked between Lance’s legs and opened the cupboard to find unopened Listerine. They were side by side for a moment, then Lance left for the bedroom.

“You okay?”

“Hm?” Keith walked in fingering his belt. “Why?”

“You seem out of it. Like…pensive?”

Keith snorted.

“What?”

“Pensive.”

“What, did I use the wrong word?”

“I didn’t know you even knew that word.”

Haughtily, “Do _you_ know that word?”

“That’s besides the point.”

“You don’t, do you.”

Keith tossed him on the bed and crawled into his lap and they laughed into each other’s mint flavored mouths. Chuckling gradually gave way to broken breaths and pleased, telling moans and short questions.

“Can you dom today?”

“I’d love to. Want me mean?”

“No.” Kiss. “I’ve been good.”

Lance grinned a little wider and settled his broad hands on Keith’s ass and pulled back a little. “Can I tie you up?”

Keith’s eyes lit up. “Yes.”

“Suspended or on the bed?”

“On the bed. I, um.” He looked down, gathered words, and Lance rubbed his hands up and down the sides of Keith’s outside thighs in encouragement. It wasn’t precisely sexy. They forwent sexiness a long time ago.

Keith tried again, “I’d like to be at your mercy. A-and edged.”

Lance blinked, “I thought you didn’t like edging.”

“I’d like to try again.”

Lance looked uncomfortable for a heartbeat.

Keith observed, “You don’t want to.”

“I didn’t do a good job last time.”

Keith nuzzled their noses together and Lance’s face screwed up in a grin. Keith murmured that it was fine. “I’d like to try again. I’ll be more vocal this time. Promise.”

Lance kissed him. “Okay. Alright. Words?”

“Kerberos for stop, Altea to slow down, Marmora for go.”

Lance kissed him. “Do I call you slut?”

He shook his head. “Keith.”

Lance startled. “O-oh,” it felt more intimate, somehow. “Okay.”

“Do I call you Lance or daddy?”

Lance grinned. “Surprise me.”

Keith nodded.

“Ready?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Lance was a little disappointed he chose not to call him by name. He supposed he could have requested but…he wanted to know what Keith would choose.

It felt like there was a divide between them, no matter how much Lance systematically tore him down, no matter how much they’d learned one another’s idiosyncrasies enough to leave their negotiations fluid. They knew their limits—within the bedroom. Lance wondered if what they had was purely sexual.

Were they even friends?

“On your knees,” Lance kissed his throat. “Not sure why you asked for mouthwash earlier. Unless you were cleaning your mouth for me?”

Keith, kneeling, peered up from under his bangs for that wonderful helpless doe-eyed stare. “Yes, daddy.”

Lance touched his cheek. “Now you’re going to clean my cock.”

Keith zealously licked his lips. “Please, daddy.”

Heady with power, “Get to it.”

Keith undid the belt with whiplash efficiency, tapped Lance’s belly and Lance lifted his hips to accommodate his jeans and briefs being yanked down in one fluid stroke. As his baby negotiated with unraveling the material from his ankles, Lance pulled his shirt over his head. When he could see again, Keith was staring up at him.

“W-what?”

“You’re hot.”

“W- _what?”_

“I said you’re hot,” he braced his hands on the sensitive, quivering inside of Lance’s thighs and leaned forward to raze his tongue from dark and curling happy trail to shallow belly button to the crease following hip to groin. Lance significantly coloured from the display, from the sensation, from the compliment.

“You’re very attractive, Lance.”

“You choose now to tell me?”

“It occurred to me now.”

“It _only_ occurred to you now? We’ve been doing this for—”

“I didn’t say only,” Keith replied. Sensing that Lance was about to question him further, he planted his tongue at the base of his cock.

Lance curled forward, dominance and questions leaving him for a moment as he purred. He wasn’t yet at full mast, but he was more than half-awake. Keith jolted when Lance chuckled, “I can feel the blood leaving my brain.”

Keith burst out laughing, then Lance burst out laughing, and then Keith licked up in one broad long lap the underside of his dick and Lance held the back of Keith’s head and scratched in appreciation.

He nibbled on the head and stayed there, sucking mildly with his tongue probing the slit. Lance shuddered over him, fingers a little more insistent in his hair. Keith was drooling as he worked down from the head and up again, down the shaft a little further, then up again, his throat hungry all the while.

Lance could feel that hunger all the way down to his balls. He murmured, “Wow, you’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

He felt Keith nod. _All dinner,_ he thought. He’d been hungry, but his mouth and throat always felt empty. Now, he felt his eyes flutter closed and his desires run a little rampant. His ears keyed into Lance’s sounds. He worked a little faster, felt the head of Lance’s cock breach the back of his throat on again off again.

Lance started panting, and where his voice punched out it was a little high and breathy. Keith looked up and when their eyes met he felt their cocks throb.

“Nn, don’t do that to me, baby.”

Keith cocked an eyebrow. _Do what?_

“The eye thing,” Lance hissed. “You know I’m a sucker for— _hng!”_

 _The eye thing,_ Keith thought absently, taking Lance down further still, pulling up until he was nearly all off before diving anew.

The “eye thing” they discovered early, and it was Lance’s weakness. He was quick to dissolve into a slobbering mess if he made eye contact. It was worse if it were prolonged for the same amount of time he was being stimulated somewhere else. He was always desperate in those moments.

Keith often weaponized that to his advantage to tip Lance over the edge.

“You’re sucking like— _ah—_ wow,” Keith was certain Lance went cross-eyed for a moment. “When did you get so good at this?”

Was he really? He just…wanted to taste Lance. And when he got here muscle memory and starvation did the rest. He sunk his nails into Lance’s bare calves to communicate his own desperation, and Lance’s hold on his head was firmer in response.

“May I— _hn—_ can I fuck your face?”

Keith nodded and let go.

Lance held Keith’s head steady and thrust into his mouth, keeping his eye on his playmate all the while. Keith stayed calm, flushed but content, hands curled lightly around the back of Lance’s bent knees. If he was in distress he could always— _tap tap._

Two taps for stop.

Lance drew back, breathing deep, and Keith sucked in air the moment he was able.

“Are you alright?”

“F-fine,” Keith leaned into the hand that was provided. “Just couldn’t breathe for a minute.”

“Was that my fault?”

Keith shook his head. “Out of practice, I guess.”

“Wanna do something else? I can go down on you.”

“No daddy,” and Lance straightened. “I want to please you. Finish in my mouth. I’m ready.”

Lance spared a lingering, loving look and brush of thumb on the cheek, then he went to town. He was seconds away before, he worked himself back up to it, and Keith, good subservient Keith, kept his mouth wet and greedy. Then he rolled his ravenous eyes up.

_“Oh shit!”_

Keith swallowed and swallowed and Lance convulsed a little, giggling despite being oversensitive, “Aw…fuck you.”

Keith chuckled while lapping the inside of his thigh.

“Insatiable today, aren’t you, Keith.”

Keith looked up.

“How are you feeling?”

“Marmora, daddy.”

“Stand for me.”

Keith stood and was bracketed by Lance’s knees. Lance took his time to skate his shaking fingers up Keith’s sides, careful not to make his touch too light otherwise he’d get smacked for tickling him. He plunged under the hem, rolled his thumb in circles on glorious warm, taut skin.

Keith had gotten a little squishy since he stopped fighting in those MMA rings. He was far from unfit, however. If anything, he was healthier now. No esoteric eating habits, no weird gauntness out of the blue. Lance lifted the shirt and kissed a mole on his belly.

Keith squirmed.

“Am I tickling you?”

“No. It feels good. Can I touch you?”

“Of course.” He felt fingers stroking long aisles through his hair not a second later. He continued to kiss and lap at Keith’s belly, his sides, his rapidly reddening chest, and at last he pulled the shirt off altogether.

Keith, in public, was unapproachable. His hair fell in ocean black waterfalls overs his ears and shoulders, framing a thin face of thin long lines. He was all black and white, and pretty the way the electric blue of a bug zapper is fascinating.

Keith, in private, was still these things, albeit a little more human. When he smiled the room warmed, when he reached it was with the hesitance of the touch-starved. He was forever earnest, and Lance felt that as Keith’s fingers splayed over the brown of his naked back.

“Wow,” Lance murmured on Keith’s clavicle. “Your bones are pretty.”

Keith spluttered, “My _bones?”_

“Yeah, like how they make indentations in your skin or whatever, where I can see them they’re shaped nicely.”

“All bones look like that.”

Lance licked the shallow valley of his breasts and caught Keith looking at him, insecure and dubious and seconds away from imminent combustion. “Take a fucking compliment, Keith.”

Keith bloomed pink, like paint getting dissolved in a soaked canvas. “Then give me one!”

Lance sunk to mouth at the top of his jeans and Keith shut up, because Lance’s tongue was laving beneath the material and the contrast of materials—dry, chaffing jeans against wet, sensual tongue—was just a little bit divine.

Keith moaned his appreciation. Lance squeezed his ass in reply. Keith stroked Lance’s hair and shoulder in encouragement. Lance slowly, slowly unbuttoned, gracefully had his baby shimmy out. Then supported him to sit in his lap where their erections touched. They kissed.

“I think it’s fair to say we both like kissing,” Lance mumbled against Keith’s teeth.

Keith grinned. “Hm.” He sat, liking the sensation of naked skin on naked skin. “After I taught you how to use your tongue, yes, it’s been ‘aight.”

Lance laughed, “What! I’ll have you know,” kiss, “that the ladies,” kiss, “ _loved_ my kisses.”

Keith murmured something about When Harry Met Sally.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“ _Hm._ Beautiful as this is, babe, I’d like to see you dressed in rope.”

“I’d like to dress in rope.”

“Sit on the bed?”

“Don’t take long. It’s cold.”

“I’ll be right,” kiss, “here.”

Keith moved. Lance moved to the trunk at the foot of the bed and dug between the sheets to find the rope the lube the toys… “Keith?”

“Yes, daddy?”

“I know we didn’t discuss this before but how do you feel about me blindfolding you?”

Keith considered this. “I’d…rather see you.” He suddenly smirked. “Your cock went _boing.”_

“Boing?”

Keith tilted his head. “Mhm.”

He looked looser now. Likely was enjoying himself, and giving up the responsibility of sustaining a permanent glower. He was grinning so broadly that Lance could see his weird canines, sharp and a little askew such that when he bit he left real marks.

Lance leaned over the bed to feel them on his thumb and Keith sucked it, moaning happily. “Daddy?”

He was whispering. Lance leaned close, “Yes, Keith?”

Keith kissed him. “Nothing.”

Lance was enjoying this facet to submissive Keith. It was rare…and vulnerable. He’d thought to send Keith home after this, but maybe he ought to let him stay the night.

“Turn for me.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Arms behind you.”

“Like this?”

“Bent.”

“Like this?”

“Good boy.”

“I like being good.”

“Happy to hear that, baby.” And he got to work.

He made a beautiful package. Arms bound behind him folded such that the palm of each hand cradled the opposite elbow, legs pinned under him with his heels bound to the apples of his ass. Lance ran his fingers over and under his work when he was done, Keith’s back to him, and Keith turned to look at his face.

“Purple is your colour, Keith.”

“I like red. Or black. Or white.”

“I know you do. I’ll find white for you next time.”

“White would look good against your complexion.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm.”

“How do you feel?”

“Marmora.”

He kissed the back of his neck. “Let’s loosen you up a little.”

“Yes, daddy.” He exhaled softly at the first slick fingers to circle his rim. Lance’s teeth gnawed on the flesh between rope on his shoulder, and his hand braced on Keith’s left thigh traced nonsense patterns. It was all very peaceful, like lying in the threshold of beach and sea.

Keith was dozing as Lance fingered him, truly, and Lance let him, still murmuring sweet nothings, stroking his thigh, kissing his nape.

“I changed my mind,” Keith yawned.

“Hm? About what?”

“Don’t edge me.”

“What do you want?”

“Can you fuck me slow please?”

“Okay, let me unbind you first.”

“Nooooo…”

“Are you sure?”

“Marmora.”

Lance chuckled. “What does that even mean?”

“It all started when I was seven—”

“Okay, never mind. Timber.” Lance pushed him into the soft of pillow and duvet and Keith _oofed_ a little but otherwise made no sound of complaint. Lance squeezed Keith’s cheek. “You look good enough to eat.”

Keith wiggled.

“Ha-ha, okay,” and he licked the slick loosened muscle by unspoken command. Keith’s moan was wanton and grateful.

By now Keith had dissolved into a goopy puddle. When their eyes occasionally met Keith would smile a little, reassuring. He was quiet, but he breathed even and his fingers squirmed when he was especially content. With one hand on Keith’s toes and his eyes open Lance had a full read on Keith at all times.

Keith jerked a little suddenly.

“Do you want something?”

“Can you—um.”

“Mhm?” he kissed the slick hole.

“Can you suck my balls please, daddy?”

Lance abided without further prompt and Keith moaned low and sudden. He whimpered when Lance spread the broad of his tongue up his perineum: his toes curled. Lance alternated his attentions and Keith’s ears went pinker and pinker. His sub was shaking eight minutes later to the undulation of tongue and finger.

Keith sighed when Lance dressed back, but whimpered, abruptly volatile and abandoned. Lance’s humming steadied him, some nonsense wordless song, but it sounded pleased and close. Keith settled.

“How do your hands feel, Keith?”

“Fine,” he flexed his fingers and felt Lance check them.

Lance slipped a pillow beneath his hips and pressed Keith down into it. Keith hissed at the contact at first, then rutted a little.

“A little misbehaved today.”

Keith stopped, expecting punishment. He felt lips bloom in random patches across his back instead. He was a different sort of breathless when Lance came up to his neck, caging him in, licking the shell of his ear. “I don’t want you to move.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“You’re gonna get fucked. What do you say?”

“Thank you, daddy— _oh,”_ Keith arched into the slick fingers that easily slid into him. His existence felt watery the way Lance worked him open. It was musical. Consistent. Irresistible. _Noisy._ But Keith couldn’t bother be embarrassed because he was good, he was doing good, his dom seemed so pleased with him—

“You’re doing very well.”

Keith would purr if he could.

“Can you take another finger?”

“I’ll take anything you want to give me.”

Lance dropped his head and Keith jumped at the pressure. Startled out of character: “Lance?”

“I’m okay.”

“…did you like that?”

“It was a good line.”

Keith relaxed until he stopped thinking about the fact that it wasn’t a _line._ It was his truth.

It took work, but Keith trusted Lance. He wouldn’t trust Lance with his motorcycle, his car or his taxes. He wouldn’t trust Lance to not put the red sock in white laundry. He trusted Lance to be honest with him, though. He trusted Lance enough that he would turn his back and close his eyes and let Lance touch him. He trusted Lance to _film_ them. He trusted Lance to not tickle him awake.

Keith had the thought occur once and then again that he might be a little in love with Lance. And that was fine. Keith figured it would be hard not to after they’d been so transparent and mutual from the beginning. It felt good to be in love with Lance. It felt good after a year and a half of panic and mistrust during a spell of therapeutic promiscuity. Now Lance was his only partner. And that monogamy, while it felt entrapping in the beginning, was reassuring while his mind was mush, his bones jelly, and his ass and balls dripping with lube and spit.

He roused faintly when Lance dressed back. He jerked faintly when he felt the familiar hot press of Lance’s blunt head against his hole.

“Okay?”

“Yes.”

He rocked forward—the breach made Keith close his eyes and exhale. He relaxed. Lance rocked forward and then back, a little deeper, fingers dipping into Keith’s hips as his patience was tested. Lance rocked forward and back, going in a little deeper each time, until he was fully saddled and Keith was letting out low wordless trilling groans at the feel of Lance’s length filling him up and the long drag as he pulled out near completely.

Lance’s hands danced over his lower back briefly. His voice was light, high breathy, strained: “Any requests, Keith?”

Keith felt his dick pulse. “No,” and Lance moaned a little, because Keith had tightened up when his name was called. “Please keep doing that, daddy.”

“Okay.”

Keith felt like dozing beneath the push and pull of Lance in and out of him. It felt so total, like his body on the threshold of the beach and sea. Sometimes he felt alone, and then Lance’s fingers would slip under his restraints and check his skin, and his gut boiled with unspoken affection.

When Lance steadily picked up speed he didn’t complain, rather he panted his assent, and eventually he was being plowed at a brisk pace, prostate jarred every other thrust that left him needy and drooling.

“D-daddy, can I—”

“Come whenever you’re ready, Keith.”

Lance bit his lip suddenly, halting at the release that tore through his body, and woke up from the white-out panting and with his knees embedded in Keith’s flesh. Keith was shivering beneath him in that telltale way and he relaxed. For a moment he thought he’d come before his partner.

Still balls deep he leaned over and pressed a kiss to wet skin. “Can I pull out?”

“No,” Keith’s eyes went a little wild.

“Alright. But I’m going to untie you now.”

Keith nodded. Lance’s soft cock slipped out of him eventually, inevitably. By then Keith’s limbs had been rubbed awake and Lance properly cooed how wonderful he was, how it was good that he spoke about what he wanted, how proud Lance was that he was comfortable to communicate this avidly. Keith hid his face, embarrassed and pleased, and Lance didn’t stop petting and complimenting him.

“Let’s grab a shower, hm?”

Keith sighed, “I can shower when I get home.”

“I’d feel better if you stayed the night,” Lance put the rope away while keeping a hand on Keith’s ankle, “but if you insist I’ll give you coffee before you go.”

Keith was quiet for three heartbeats. Eventually, “Do I really look that out of it?”

Lance softened at the image of Keith, red limbs splayed where Lance had left them, eyes dark and drooping, back rising and falling with slow, sated breaths. Lance grinned apologetically, “If you weren’t talking I’d think you were asleep.”

Keith closed his eyes. “Oh.”

“Shower?”

“Tired.”

“But you need to go pee and clean yourself out.”

“ _Tired.”_

“I need to change the sheets!”

Keith groaned something indiscernible, but if Lance had to guess it was a reiteration of the above.

“If anyone should be tired it’s _me._ I did all the work!”

“I got pounded into.”

Lance was about to retort but spluttered a laugh out instead.

Keith was eventually maneuvered into the shower and was alert enough to look after himself while Lance changed the sheets before joining him. They crawled into bed naked, lips or hands always on each other, and Lance fell asleep smelling his coconut conditioner in his lover’s hair.

In the morning, in oversized shirts stolen from Shiro when he wasn’t looking, Keith and Lance exchanged sleepy hellos over toast and jam and marmalade, radio soft in the kitchen and playing lazy footsie under the table. Keith’s phone rang and he left it to ring in the bedroom. Then it rang again and he left for it grudgingly.

“Hi Shiro,” Lance heard on Keith’s return trip. “Yeah, I’m up. What’s up?”

Keith paused.

“You’re _where?”_

Lance looked up.

Keith looked alarmed. “I—I’m not there right now. I’m at Lance’s.”

Lance watched as Shiro must have said something else and Keith’s face went very, very still. “Uh.” And then there was an exclamation even Lance heard, a half-shrill half-laughing _“What?!”_

“Shiro Shiro Shiro— _Takashi,_ will you—oh my god.” Keith sat down in Lance’s lap and Lance angled around him to get his toast. “Shut up. I will kill you.” Pause. “Six months.”

“Ooh, are you talking about us?” Lance sang.

“Shut up, Lance.” Pause. “Yes, he’s right here. _No,_ I’m not putting you on speaker.”

“Put him on speaker!”

“Fine!”

And Shiro was on speaker: “ _Lance?”_

“Hi Shiro!”

“ _So it’s true. You’re screwing Keith.”_

“Screw is such a dirty word. I’d like to think I fuck him.” _Slap!_ “Ow!”

A laugh, “ _I can’t believe you guys have been going at it for six months and didn’t let it on! Pidge and Hunk bet money on whether or not Keith kept to his promise of dumping your body.”_

Keith said he thought about it.

Then came the inevitable question: _“Why the secrecy?”_

Lance kissed Keith’s shoulder and nuzzled the space there, and Keith knew that half the reason why Lance did so was the rub the toast crumbs off his cheeks, but he accepted the nuzzling as non-verbal support anyway. He said, “I…it’s not. I don’t know. We’re not dating. It didn’t seem like a big deal.”

Shiro made an odd sound, “ _I suppose it isn’t. It’s a hell of a surprise though.”_

Lance’s tongue laved over Keith’s shoulder and he glared. Lance batted his eyelashes charmingly.

“ _I brought coffee and waffles in case you were hungover. I’m guessing you’re covered?”_

“Is it too much trouble to bring them over here?” Lance asked. “I can put some pancakes on. We could feast like breakfast kings!”

Keith’s breath hitched. Lance’s fingers were snaking into his underwear, rolling straight for his balls.

“ _Sure, if you’ll have me. Sounds like fun.”_

“Wanna hang out? Play videogames and watch movies?”

“ _You sure I wouldn’t be interrupting anything?”_

Keith pressed his hand over his mouth when a second hand joined to clasp down on his stirring cock.

“Not a thing,” Lance gnawed at Keith’s shoulder.

_“Alright, I’ll see you in ten.”_

“Sure!”

Keith wasn’t sure if Shiro had properly hung up when Lance stroked him with vigor and Keith teetered forward to rut against Lance’s erection.

“How do you feel about voyeurism, Keith?”

“ _Please_ do not pull these underhanded moves while Shiro is here.”

Lance wiggled his cock free and slid into Keith with very little resistance. “No promises.”


	2. Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance invite Shiro to invigilate their play. In which there is voyeurism, exhibitionism, blowjobs, cockwarming, toys and cross-dressing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene takes place weeks after Shiro brought pancakes to Lance’s apartment and was invited to watch an impromptu scene of lazy morning sex. That chapter will be written, promise. (Probably.)

“Stop giggling,” Keith lightly smacked the legs squashed between his own. “If you move too much I won’t get the angle right.”

“Hee-hee. Angle.”

Smack.

“Ow.”

Lance sat still with his legs clasped and his spine bowed to accommodate Keith. He had been religiously gentle since Lance arrived at his apartment, disabling Lance from so much as lifting a finger. After being bathed, his hair washed, his legs shaved, his toes painted, Lance was utterly pampered and floating.

Now he sat on a stool in a mid-thigh spaghetti-strap black dress, the long straight hair of a wig slithering across his back. Lance felt his heart pounding. With each new drag of paint and brush across his cheeks he felt less like himself and more like a creation of Keith, less a person and more a doll.

Being remade in another man’s image excited him. Despite the special panties made to hide it, he was certain his boner was obvious and obstructive.

But Keith made no mention of it.

“Open.”

Lance opened his eyes and faced Keith, serious-faced Keith, criticizing his work.

“Close.”

Lance abided with a trill. The instruction was delivered without the thought that Lance would ever refuse. How could he? He was a thing right now. More importantly, he was Keith’s thing.

He rubbed his knees together in mild distress.

Keith was dashing blush across the bridge of his nose. “You okay, baby?”

 _Baby._ Lance shivered. Keith didn’t always stoop to name calling but when he did he was a master. It had to do with how effortless he made it. He was confident that Lance would understand his role from a single pet name.

 _Baby._ Lance whispered yes. Because as much as he was Keith’s thing tonight, he was a prized thing. A special possession. Even if he was going to be methodically taken apart before an audience, even if Keith was going to rip the past three hours of hard work apart eyelash by eyelash, he was a precious object. _Keith’s_ precious object.

“Are you hard?”

Lance felt his shoulders jerk but kept himself still and his eyes closed. Nothing more had been requested of him. He jerked again when Keith’s cold fingers grabbed his cheeks and yanked him forward. Despite himself, a surprised gasp left him.

“I asked you a question, baby.” Every other word sent vapor across his lover’s mouth and want down his spine.

“Y-yes,” Lance whispered. “I’m hard.”

“Are you hard for me? Or for Shiro?”

Lance’s brow twitched. “Neither.”

Keith was surprised. “What, then? If not a whore, then what? It couldn’t be that my baby’s just a slut who gets hard over nothing.” He licked Lance’s bottom lip. It was not romantic. It was not sexual. It was possessive, like he was a cookie that he had to keep away from his sister. It was a show. With their lips crushed together Keith demanded: “Answer me.”

“I’m h-ard because I’m excited,” he whispered, stuttered. His eyes were still closed. Did the foundation disguise his blush?

“Oh, I understand.” Keith retreated and Lance would be lost and scared if not for his cold, cold fingers holding fast to his cheeks. “You aren’t a whore. You aren’t a slut. My good little thing,” and he kissed his nose, feather light, patronizing. He whispered in joy, “You’re a freak.”

Lance shuddered. He held his hands in his lap until his knuckles turned white.

“Tighten your lips. I’m going to put on your lipstick.”

Like that, just like that, Keith was normal and Lance was a shaking mess. The dichotomy made Lance truly feel like a slut and a whore and a freak because he couldn’t switch like Keith could. He couldn’t turn off his arousal like Keith could. He couldn’t hide like Keith could. While Keith rubbed colour onto his mouth, tears pebbled on his faux lashes.

“Stop that,” Keith snapped.

Lance went cold. _I displeased him I displeased him I displeased him._

Against Keith’s harsh tone, the dabs at his eyes were dainty. “You’ll undo all my hard work. You can cry later when you have cum dripping off your face.”

Lance fought to keep the embers of arousal under lock and key. Keith was going to come on his face? Would…might Shiro also? Lance was mostly kept in the dark. He asked for it that way. He knew that Keith told Shiro that he was interested in a threesome, he knew Keith told Shiro each and every one of his kinks. Lance knew Keith and Shiro would be choosing from his kink list for tonight’s session. That was all he knew.

His ignorance fueled his excitement as much as Keith’s passive aggressive domination did.

“Done.” Keith’s hands left him for a moment. “You can open your eyes now.”

Lance did.

Keith’s expression instantly went from hard appraisal to gentle recognition. “Would you like to see?”

Lance found himself meek. He was allowed something! “Yes, please.”

“Polite today,” Keith laughed. It was mocking, but Lance still melted. Keith offered his hand and Lance took it, and Keith led him out of the brightly lit bathroom to the adjoining bedroom where a body length mirror waited on the back of Keith’s bedroom door.

Lance jerked to a halt at his reflection.

Keith stood behind him, arranging the wig in place. He did not ask what Lance thought of his work. Lance’s opinion did not matter tonight.

But Lance thought he looked beautiful. In a word—doll-like.

The wig was straight and long and caught just above his ass. It was platinum white but not obnoxiously so, even though it caught a fiery halo thanks to the streetlight outside the bedroom window. Between the short-short dress and five inch stilettos his legs were long, long, long, and if he moved too aggressively one could see the underwear that hid his bulge. His face…he was surprised how much of himself he still saw. Keith preserved his normal features while making him more feminine. The smoky mascara and dark lips made him look more risqué and confident than he felt.

He closed his eyes when Keith stuck a tongue in his ear. Lance thought he’d say something. Wish he’d say something. But Keith only sucked on and behind his ear, hands roaming up his thighs and grabbing his ass and cock—

Lance jumped.

“Remember to keep your eyes on Shiro,” he demanded, rolling his hands. Lance trembled. “Understand?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

Keith’s phone buzzed.

“That must be him.” He slapped Lance’s ass. “Be quiet until I come for you.”

And then Lance was alone with his pretty, not-him reflection.

-

“Nice suit,” Keith grinned.

“Too much?” Shiro pulled at his cuff self-consciously. “You said formal so…”

“No, it’s great. I’ll be holding Lance back at the neck to keep him from tearing your clothes off.”

Shiro grinned and blushed and his eyes raked the room. “Speaking of, where is he?”

“Getting ready. I’ll get him in a minute. Coffee? Tea? Soda? Champagne?”

“Is water an option?”

“I have beer.”

Shiro laughed. He took something that bubbled in a flute.

Then Shiro settled on Keith’s couch and Keith took a moment from afar to thirst after him privately. He always cut an intimidating figure but in a suit he was simply something else. His calm was tinged with authority now that his hair was slicked back and his shoes shiny. His hand hung off one arm of the couch like Gucci on a bus stop bench and Keith had to beat back his rising subspace with a stick.

Maybe later, maybe if Shiro was willing to open that door, maybe then he’d let himself get rawed by his old mentor wearing a three piece suit.

For now, he had a package to pick up.

“Ready for me to get Lance? I kinda prepped him already.”

Shiro looked up in sharp intrigue. “What does that mean?”

Keith shrugged and rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt. “I might have, uh, teased him. A bit. Before you came.” He gave a cruel smirk while looking at nothing in particular. “I _love_ when he’s desperate like this. It’s too good to keep for myself.” His eyes flashed to Shiro. “Wanna see?”

Shiro nodded mutely. He was impressed by Keith’s new character.

He took a drink to steady himself.

_Click. Clack. Click. Click._

Keith appeared, leading something around the corner. Shiro looked up and abruptly wondered what he was expecting.

Lance was stunning. He moved like water in shoes that were just straps and needles. His body did not look out of place in feminine garb. His skin glimmered with what must have been glitter. He kept his eyes low, but when he risked a glance up and away Shiro thought them beautiful, if only because they were dressed in a shyness that he rarely saw on him.

“Wow,” Shiro whispered, and set his drink down. “You’re beautiful, Lance.”

Lance ducked his head and hugged himself. He jumped when Keith pinched his ass.

“Introduce yourself to our guest,” Keith demanded, grinning deviously. “Don’t you dare pretend to be embarrassed now.”

Lance stared at Keith for a dreadful moment. When no-one made a move for half a minute, he resolved to approach Shiro. Shiro crossed his legs and threaded his fingers on top of his foremost knee and Lance thought _hot hot hot hot hot_ he didn’t know Shiro would make such an emphatic presence! He thought he might be getting fucked by his friends. Instead, now, it felt like he was about to be fucked for barter.

“Good night,” he whispered shyly. “M-my name is—”

“Look him in the eye.”

Lance met Shiro’s eyes. He felt like a product fresh out of its plastic case. Shiro watched him with clear interest but it didn’t seem sexual or objectifying. It was more like he was marveling Keith’s work, how the bells and whistles came together. “My n-n-name is Llandra tonight, sir.”

“Hello, Llandra.” Shiro said easily, too easily, sitting there like a CEO who sides as a pimp and gauging how much to dish out for a new commodity. “Are you going to put on a show for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

Shiro’s eyes flashed to where Lance assumed Keith was over his shoulder. Lance felt a hand slip under his jaw and roll his head up and to the side. He felt disembodied. He watched his body fall into Keith’s waspish allure.

“Go into my room,” Keith whispered loud enough for Shiro to hear, “and get the biggest dildo I have. You’re going to fuck yourself on it. What do we say?”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Get to it.”

Lance moved away, no hesitance or fear or shyness in how he walked.

Shiro exhaled in Lance’s absence. _“Wow.”_

Keith collapsed into the couch beside him. He was grinning. His pride was obvious. “Right? He’s really into it tonight too. You’re in for a treat.”

“He doesn’t get like this often?”

“Not like this.” Keith showed him a rare grin. “I think he wants to show off for you.”

Shiro sighed. “And his outfit, his entire look…”

“Like it?”

“Yes. Very much.”

“Thanks. That’s my handiwork.”

Shiro stared at him.

“What?”

“ _You_ did Lance’s makeup and hair?”

“Yes?” Keith laughed, “I did cosmetology, Shiro, you know this.”

“Yeah but, that was just—”

“To prove Lance wrong on a bet, I know. Still, I finished the course. It would be a shame if I didn’t get to use it from time to time. Lance likes looking pretty too.”

“You use him as a model often.”

“Mhm.” His eyes caught a distant look. “When we first hooked up was when I was practicing on him. Coran and Allura needed an extra hand backstage and I wanted to get a quick run in to make sure I still had it the day before.”

Shiro was hungry for this story. He didn’t hear any more than that because a _click clack click click_ resonated down the corridor again.

Lance reappeared with the toy in hand. Obnoxious pink, long and thick, it had a heavy base, likely with suction.

“Put it on the floor,” Keith ordered, switching personalities in a flash. He spread his legs and dropped his temple as his knuckles, feigning boredom. “Lube it up. Stretch yourself out on it. Make sure we can see your face. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Do you have any words for me?”

“Marmora, sir.”

“Good. Come here.”

Lance looked as momentarily confused as Shiro felt. He approached Keith, eyes flickering to Shiro’s momentarily, and bowed when Keith crooked a lazy finger at him. Lance waited for a kiss, but though their noses touched Keith only breathed on his mouth. Instead his hands ran up from the crook at the back of Lance’s knees. In a slow whisper of skin he ascended to the round of his thighs and smiled when Lance closed his eyes and sighed.

“What a sweet girl,” Keith praised Lance’s stillness. “Isn’t she, Shiro?”

Shiro looked unaffected, but his voice was tight. “Beautiful,” he agreed.

Lance kept his eyes away from landing on either one of them, even as he tucked some of his platinum blonde hair behind an eye to keep his face open for their scrutiny. He panted as Keith’s fingers ran under the inside of his panties.

“Don’t take these off,” Keith whispered. “Pull them down enough to get the dildo in.”

Lance nodded.

“Let me hear you.”

“Yes sir— _ahhn!”_

Shiro jerked in surprise. Keith had squeezed Lance’s front.

“Sensitive,” he gave Lance’s lips a kitten lick. “Go.”

Lance retreated with less grace than he had managed so far. He turned his back to his dominants and carefully pulled his hair over one shoulder to showcase his naked back. Keith heard Shiro swallow. _Gorgeous_ brown skin, all of it shimmering in the shitty condo light, his musculature casting sexy shadows as he angled his arms back and lifted the skirt of his obscenely short dress. He popped his ass out a little to keep it in place as he rolled his panties down just enough. He looked over his shoulder, first in question to Keith, then in hope to Shiro, and spread his ass.

His hole was wet and dark and used. Shiro bit his lip.

Keith prompted, “Beautiful. Plug it up now, baby.”

Lance got to his knees, lubed the pink toy up, and positioned himself to ride it while in heels. It wasn’t even in yet before Shiro covered his mouth. _“Fuck, that’s hot.”_

Keith grinned.

Lance leaned into the toy and moaned, breathless and high, as it entered him. As an afterthought he looked over his shoulder, maintaining eye contact the more he descended on the toy. He was strong and flexible, and managed a good way before pulling up. He slammed back down and cried out beautifully.

Keith frowned, “Easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Lance’s eyes settled on him. “I…want to give…you a good show, sir.”

“Give us a good show by taking your time.”

“Yes, sir.”

The brief exchange of care and checking in was just as erotic as watching Lance work himself up. Shiro unfolded his legs.

Keith noticed. “Are you alright? If you want to jack off, you can.”

Shiro nodded. They had discussed it.

“Or if you prefer I can have Llandra take care of it.”

Like a whip, Lance’s loving gaze shifted to Shiro. Shiro caught his lips in his teeth and watched Lance roll his hips, watched the toy disappear inside him, and he had the odd compulsion to breed the little—

“I’ll think about it,” he managed, and grasped himself through his trousers. He sighed in mutual relief and impending climax. His loins felt like a tinderbox waiting for the right spark.

Keith nodded, then stood. Lance had to turn his head to watch him, and the way his hair arced through the air was beautiful too.

Shiro applied for pressure to the heel of his hand as he stood on the line between pleasuring himself and torturing himself.

“Up, Llandra.”

Lance moved to obey, but slipped, shouted—Keith caught his elbow. “Kerberos!” he blurted.

Lance and Shiro froze. Shiro stood on standby. Keith set Lance down beside him and took knee, examining Lance’s ankle. “Did you sprain anything?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Lance promised. “I shouted out of surprise more than anything.” He let himself feel adored when Keith kissed a knee.

“Shall I take them off for you?”

“I’d like to get fucked in them if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. You won’t be standing for that.” He gently pulled Lance to his feet. “I’m sorry. I should have asked you to take your heels off first. That was stupid of me.”

Lance shook his head. “I’m fine. We won’t do it next time.”

Keith ran his fingers against Lance’s jaw and through his borrowed hair, down down to his shoulder, down down to his elbows and hands. Lance accepted the lull in their play and Shiro watched, feeling more like a voyeur now than ever. Keith took one hand and kissed Lance’s knuckles, then the other. “It’s my responsibility to make sure you’re safe. This won’t happen again. I promise. The only reason I’m not ripping you out of those death traps right now is because you want them on.”

Lance swallowed, shy anew. “I do.”

“Shall we continue?”

“Yes please.”

Keith at last kissed him, full and long on the mouth. Lance whined against him, accepted his tongue, and when they parted both their mouths were smeared with dark lipstick. Lance yelped when Keith dragged him forward by his ass. “I’m going to mess up your makeup now, okay?”

Lance nodded.

Keith kissed him. “Beg me to fuck up your makeup.”

Lance dropped his eyes. His heart rioted. “F-fuck up my makeup.”

“Tell me you want me to fuck your face.”

“I want you to fuck my—woah,” Keith turned him so that they were both facing a cherry-faced Shiro. His boner was still raging in his slacks, but did not to detract from his detached beauty. His breath visibly caught when both of them set him in their crosshairs.

Keith was still speaking to Lance: “Tell me you want me to fuck your face.”

Lance didn’t look away from Shiro. He rattled. He whispered, “I want you to fuck my face.”

Shiro blinked rapidly and covered his nose and mouth in mortification. The swell of desire that flooded his system was great and unfair.

Keith whispered another demand.

“I want you to mess up my face.”

And another.

“I want you to erase my makeup with your come.”

Shiro particularly lost it at the last one. Keith bit his lips in glee at the marvel of dismantling the behemoth Takashi without laying a finger on him. The man writhed in his seat, gasped into his hand and bit the heel of his palm as he crossed his legs and squeezed his prosthetic between his thighs and against his erection. When he met their eyes again, his face was an inferno of apology and desire.

Keith whispered something else.

Lance wavered. Shiro’s eyes stayed trained on Lance as he advanced to the vacated spot on the couch for the next installment of their play. His knees were thrown over the back of the couch, his back lying on the seat, his head hanging off the cushion beside Shiro’s knee. Then he opened his mouth and— _zzzzrp!_ went Keith’s zipper.

Keith pulled himself free and gave three liberal rubs and a moan. To Shiro: “You can touch his throat if you want.”

Shiro didn’t understand what he had been given permission to do until Keith sunk his penis between Lance’s lips and pushed pushed…and Lance’s throat distended.

Shiro rubbed his eyes, slapped his cheeks, dabbed his drool, and hastily freed himself from the confines of his slacks and underwear.

Gone were soft kisses and lingering looks. Keith had one knee braced into the couch beside Lance’s shoulder, grasped his head from behind his neck, and fucked into his throat as though breathing were an option. Lance jerked but mostly made happy grunts, and kept his hands firmly against his belly.

Until one reached blindly for Shiro.

Keith watched the exchange but did not interrupt as Shiro reciprocated and offered his left hand. Lance guided to his throat and _woah._ He could feel it undulating. He wanted to say he could feel the shape of Keith’s cock but no, no, that was wishful thinking. All the same it was hot as fuck, like a living thing writhing beneath his gentle hold.

Shiro looked up to gauge Keith’s expression. Keith stared at him, dark and hungry, flushed, and Shiro felt the urge to kiss him. Keith’s eyes suddenly got rheumy as Shiro thought so. His head dropped as if it had given up, but his hips worked like a helpless piston. “Fuck, _fuck,”_ he cried, “baby you’re swallowing— _hm! Ha-ha-ha—”_

Watching Keith lose his composure was a magical experience. He dragged himself out of Lance’s loving heat before he lost himself entirely. Then he was on his knees, kissing him upside down. It was sloppy, loud, big, mutual, passionate, and they’d all but forgotten they had an audience.

Lance’s lipstick had mostly rubbed away by now. It decorated his cheek and teeth and lips, and Keith’s too, but neither one of them looked silly. They looked sated, saturated with each other’s essence.

Shiro wondered: did they know how infatuated with each other they appeared?

Lance sobbed, “Please fuck me? Please? Please, I need you—”

“Sh-sh-sh,” Keith kissed him. “I’m here.”

Lance whined, long and mournful.

“Shh, baby,” Keith laughed. “Come here. On your knees, face away from me.” As Lance moved he glanced at Shiro. “Still enjoying yourself?”

Shiro had covered his mouth and nose with both hands. He was grinning and flushed and laughed, “I am its just—you guys are cute.”

Lance settled in front of Keith and practically sat in his lap. “Cute?”

“I expected, I dunno, whips and flogs and mean barbs. In reality you guys are kind of cruel to each other I expected that to translate here but…I was proven wrong.”

Lance blanched. “Is that what you think of us?”

Keith was thoughtful, “I never thought of our interactions as cruel.” As he said this, he slipped a hand under Lance’s dress.

Lance leaned forward. He braced his elbows and belly on the seat of the couch and flipped the wig out of the way to pull over the shoulder farthest from Shiro to offer him a good view. “Right? We’re just playing.”

“Or hiding,” Shiro volunteered. “Why are you so scared to be kinder to each other in public?”

Keith lined himself up after shoving his pants down, still petulant.

“Wouldn’t it be weird? After all this time we’ve had this…we have our _thing._ Fighting’s our thing.”

Shiro didn’t like that for some reason. He was too late to articulate as much. Keith pushed forward and the communal arousal skyrocketed with Lance’s delighted moan. He whined when Keith pulled out and again when Keith pitched forward. Their skin slapped, wet from lube and sweat. Shiro absorbed the debauchery with one hand pumping his cock.

Shiro adored the way Keith’s member disappeared into Lance’s body. He could feel every thrust, he could taste the genuine satisfaction coming off their skin in waves. Lance has resorted to squealing and drooling against the couch cushion. Keith’s eyes had gone glassy and distant again. His bangs mostly hid his face. His nails dug into Lance’s hips.

Shiro could reach out and tuck the errant strands aside but he got the feeling if he so much as moved towards them he’d be facing two predators eager to defend their property. There was a wall there, half a centimeter thick, that allowed for sound and smell and heat, but if he so much as touched, he’d be missing another hand.

(Or at least that’s what their chaotic chemistry felt like when translated into words.)

 _What devotion,_ Shiro sighed, leaning back, huffing with harder, wilder strokes. _Even if they don’t see it._ He bit his lip to keep his voice under wraps as he listened to their discordant breathing.

“Come on him,” Keith suddenly growled.

Shiro jerked.

“Come on him!” he demanded again, “Mess him up. He _loves_ that.”

Lance’s eyes rolled to Shiro’s as if he’d be doing him a favor to dunk him in his come. Shiro ducked his head and grit his teeth. When Lance opened his mouth and unfurled his tongue, Shiro spent. “I—I— _ugh!”_

Keith threw himself against Lance’s back. He slammed into him in even strokes _wham wham_ loving, needing, wanting to change them from two people into one thing.

Lance tasted blood as his orgasm tightened and tightened and tightened and—oh god—the precipice got bigger and bigger, scarier—

He couldn’t help but shout when the spring broke. The spasm of his orgasm struck Keith like thunder and he was quick to follow. While Lance was coming down in a hazy spiral, twitching with remnant pleasure, he felt Shiro’s jizz cooling on his face.

“Fuck, you look amazing,” Keith praised breathlessly. “Lance? Can I take a picture?”

Lance murmured his consent.

Shiro was about to offer to get his phone for him but Keith pulled it from his back pocket. He took two pictures, one had Shiro’s spent cock in frame. “Hot,” he praised them. “Would you like a copy Shiro?”

“If it’s okay,” Shiro admitted with a blush, turning to Lance.

Lance nodded. He shifted onto his elbows and sighed. His borrowed hair cascaded around him like a waterfall and between the exertion and the drying sweat and semen someone he still looked desirable. His makeup was a right mess. “Shiro, Keith, can I get something in my mouth please?”

Shiro jumped.

Keith asked, “Is that your roundabout way of asking to cock warm one of us?”

Lance turned to Shiro hopefully.

Shiro looked between them.

“Ask properly,” Keith prompted.

Lance blushed, if that were possible after all that they’d been through until this moment. “Shiro…may I warm your cock, please?”

“I…I I’m still sensitive.”

“I just want to hold it on my tongue.”

Shiro closed his eyes. “Okay.”

Lance slowly crawled towards him. He watched the beautiful creature possess his lap, lay his hands on his large thighs, and then nice, soft wetness enveloped him. He flinched, but there was no more additional pressure or tension. As promised, Lance was only holding him with his tongue.

He was alarmed to find Lance had gone cross-eyed.

“It’s okay,” when had Keith left them? He’d gone and come back with a towel and wipes. “He has this oral fixation when he’s in a submissive mood. He likes when you rub his head.”

Shiro patted him. Lance’s eyes rolled closed, and he rest his head on Shiro’s thigh.

Keith chuckled, “He’ll fall asleep like that if you let him.”

Shiro was half inclined to. He looked so peaceful.

“We’ll have a proper conversation when we’re all back to earth but,” and he sat beside his old mentor, “how was your first orgy?”

Shiro chuckled. Lance hummed in kind, enjoying the vibrations. “Hardly an orgy, I think. I barely participated.”

“You being here was participation enough,” Keith grasped his shoulder. “Did you like it?”

Shiro nodded. “Yes.” He looked down at Lance, at home in his groin. “Is this okay? We didn’t discuss this before now.”

“It’s spontaneous I admit. But Lance wanted it, I didn’t mind. What matters is do you feel comfortable?”

Lance’s eyes flickered up to meet his.

“I do,” he rubbed Lance’s head. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you._ It’s a pleasure to have you here. Was there anything you didn’t like?”

Shiro shook his head.

“Is there anything that you would like to do?” Indecision must have reflected in his eyes, because Keith turned to face him directly. “Tell me.”

Shiro stood a bracing breath. “If I…I’d like permission to kiss either of you, in the future. If you would have me,” he hastily added. “If not, no harm no foul.”

Keith looked surprised. “Is that it?”

“I…yes. It may seem small to you but to me…”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to belittle your request it’s just…out of anything you might have asked for a kiss what not what I expected.” He paused, absorbing Shiro’s flush.

It made sense, the more he thought about it. The poor man was lonely, hadn’t been in a good solid relationship in a year. And he was a passionate lover, Adam and Matt frequently said they could find no qualm with him, and anyone would be lucky to have him.

Keith curled his finger under Shiro’s chin. Their eyes met. It was Shiro who lunged forward and met him in a fierce kiss. Keith melted into it, grasped Shiro by the back of his neck. He pressed into him, and rolled his tongue under Shiro’s tongue, and Shiro whined and they both _loved_ this. _Loved_ each other, for a split minute.

Shiro broke away first—Keith chased him for a chaste finisher.

Lance, still latched onto Shiro’s stirring cock, was bright eyed with appreciation.

Shiro whispered, “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Keith scratched Lance’s head. It was as though Lance had become their pet after masquerading as their doll all night. “We need to get you cleaned up, buddy.”

Lance whined.

“Don’t take that tone with me, you’ll hate all of us in the morning if you don’t wash out now.”

Lance responded by burying himself farther into Shiro’s pubic hair.

 _“Mm!”_ Shiro cradled his head, “Lance I— _oh.”_

“Stop harassing Shiro!”

“Wait wait let— _hn!—_ let him finish.”

_“Shiro!”_

-

Shiro spent the night.

Despite the invitation, he slept on the couch. Keith had offered a dozen times and then just once more that he was free to change his mind, that the bed was big enough for a third body. But Shiro politely refused, made himself warm milk and honey, and retired to the couch with two pillows, a duvet, and a tablet full of the six romance novels he’d been meaning to catch up on.

Through the bedroom door ajar, Lance lay on Keith’s bare chest and Keith played with the hair at his nape.

“Lance, you awake?”

“No.”

Keith pinched him. “Smartass.”

“Ouch.”

“How did you feel about today?”

Lance smiled, “I liked it.”

“What part?”

“All parts.”

“You liked Shiro being here?”

“Yes.” Lance hesitated. “You want to know my favourite part?”

“Hmm?”

“When you came in me the same time Shiro came on my face.”

Keith took a deep breath. “God, he did?”

“All the time I kept thinking, that’d feel good if it was in my mouth.”

“That’s why you asked to warm his cock.”

“A little. But I also liked when he kissed you.”

“ _Mm._ Me too. Fuck, he’s such a good kisser.”

“I know.”

“How would you know, you’ve never kissed him.”

“His cock’s a good kisser.”

Smack.

“Ow.”

Shiro, who had passed the bedroom door on his way to the bathroom, tip toed as quietly as possible and hoped his smile and blush weren’t loud enough to be heard by his friends.


	3. Photos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is sexting and masturbation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that kicked off the shklance in the previous chapter will be written eventually. Promise. Probably.  
> There’s fun in writing out of order to be honest. And it’s nice writing debauchery and suspense to detox from The Fringe which consists of mostly (surprise surprise) debauchery and suspense.

Acxa asked as soon as he returned: “Why do you have an incriminating picture of Lance in drag on your phone?”

Keith’s heart stopped. His eyes immediately skittered to the couch to check that Veronica wasn’t there. His sister had a nasty habit of extending the discourtesy of breaking into Keith’s apartment to her girlfriend.

He sighed and shrugged out of his blazer. “Why are you going through my phone?”

“I can’t find mine and I wanted to call mom. Your gallery app was open when I unlocked your phone.”

“Stop hacking into my phone!” and he snatched it back on his way to the bedroom. She stalked him quietly.

“It’s not hacking,” she said at the doorway. “Your fingerprints on the screen betray the numbers you use. It’s trial and error from there.”

“I hate having geniuses as family members.” He was connecting his portable harddrive to his desktop. His one-bedroom apartment didn’t leave him with much studio space, but the corner beside his bed worked fine.

“Are you going to blackmail Lance? Given that I’m dating his sister I am under some obligation to stop you.”

“I am not going to blackmail Lance,” he groaned in exasperation. “Shit! What kind of person do you take me for?”

“The kind to burn Professor Haxus out of his office.”

“He groped Katie!”

“I’m not saying your reasons weren’t noble, I’m just saying your actions can be drastic.” She straightened. “Please do not leave me in suspense? I’m starting to worry.”

He brushed past her. “You’re worried? _I’m_ worried. I’d appreciate you respecting my privacy, Acxa.”

He stopped in the middle of the lounge area to tell her that, and she finally looked despondent. “I am sorry,” she said genuinely. “I did not mean to pry. It was…just a matter of established boundaries intersecting with the liberties you usually give me.”

“That’s one wild apology.”

“I _am_ sorry. It was not my place. But now that I am made aware I would rather confront you than skulk behind your back.”

He had to appreciate that. Though they met one another late in life, he and Acxa were ingrained with the same brand of loyalty. They were honest with each other. And in the beginning when he was skeptical about reuniting with his blood family he was grateful for her friendship.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he started.

“Ominous,” she interrupted.

He glared.

She put up her hands in surrender.

“Lance and I have sex sometimes. I asked his permission to take a picture after this session.”

“…I thought there were three people in the photo.”

“Just how carefully did you study this?!”

“I mean, the angle, and then the second penis—”

“Stop stop stop stop,” he huffed. He blushed and grit, “Occasionally we invite a third, alright? _I’m not telling you who it is.”_

She put up her hands in surrender. “I didn’t ask.”

He scoffed. “Knowing you you’ll figure it out by next week.”

“Not if you don’t want me to.” She softened, “Your love and sex lives are none of my business. I just want to know that you and yours and mine are safe.”

“Safe, sane and consensual, I promise,” his shoulders hunched with exhaustion.

Acxa nodded. “Good. And again: I apologize. I will make a conscious effort to preserve your privacy in the future.”

“Don’t make it weird,” he laughed, “just…phones, computers, my wardrobe—ask first?”

“I would _never_ wear your clothes—”

“Acxa.”

“I will ask first.”

“Thank you.” He drank his orange juice. “Now, aside from wanting to call mom, why did you break into my apartment?”

Acxa, for the first time, looked ashamed. She folded her arms and became enamored with Keith’s black-and-white tiled kitchen floor. He watched her and waited for her to gather the words. She seemed to be figuring out what to say versus what not to say. “Veronica…found out about my affections for someone else. We have been talking about it for weeks and she recently volunteered the idea that we should take a break to meditate on what we want separately.”

“Oh,” that explained multiple things. Conservative as she could be, Acxa did odd to crazy things when the people she loved were concerned. Another inborn trait they shared, apparently. Though breaking into his apartment and his phone was farthest from the most outlandish things she’d ever done, it was uncommon enough that he figured something had happened. “I’m sorry. Are you—uh, _is_ this a bad thing? They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

She glared at him over her crossed arms. “If I wanted to be consoled through parables I would have visited Kolivan.”

Keith levied an unimpressed look.

“I just needed to get out of the apartment for a bit.”

“Is this you asking to crash here until you two get back together?”

“Please? I can make myself scarce when you have Lance and your third over.”

Keith abruptly blushed. She acclimated to that reality faster than Shiro did. “I regret telling you.”

“My suitcase is already in your room.”

“I saw it. _Yes,_ you can stay. Whatever. Why not with mom?”

“She was my first choice.”

Keith arched a brow.

“She didn’t pick up when I called her. I think she and Kolivan are still in the honeymoon phase.”

Keith squeezed his eyes shut.

“It’s somewhat depressing. My mother and little brother are getting more sex than me.”

“It’s been like this since World War III you’re only now noticing? Ah, don’t hit me don’t— _ow.”_

She grinned. “Shall I cook for us?”

“You pinch hard!”

She started pulling things from the fridge. As she worked—and complained about his unhealthy vegetable-to-meat ratio—she asked, “Tell me more about your relationship with Lance?”

“It’s not a relationship. Or at least, I mean, it’s a friends-with-benefits thing. We had sex once and then we talked about it and…ta-dah?”

“Pfft.”

“It’s _casual,_ I mean,” he laughed. “We explore kinks together and stuff. It’s not as sexy as that picture makes it look. Half the time it’s just talking and figuring out what works.”

“That…sounds an awful lot like you’re dating.”

Keith shook his head and dropped it into the palm of his hand. He watched her slice and dice onions without shedding a tear. Alien. “Not dating. We hardly talk about anything outside of sex. If we try we end up arguing.”

He saw her hesitate. “…does that bother you?”

“S-sometimes,” he admitted as if the word had to claw its way out of its throat. “We used to get along better, back when Shiro used to tutor us.”

Then her head tilted and Keith immediately hated it and hated her because he knew she figured him out. “Shiro’s the third.”

He didn’t reply.

“That’s…impressive. Shiro’s an incredible catch. How did you mange that?”

“Again, we’re not _dating._ It’s just sex.”

She tossed the chopped onion and garlic and spring onions and celery into the pre-heated wok. They _hissed_ and their fumes decorated his whole apartment in a single gratuitous breeze. Keith briefly departed to crack open a window. When he returned to the counter, Acxa was attacking his week old rice and had eggs set aside.

“I cannot understand how men can have sex detached from their heart and brain. It’s lowkey terrifying how you can disassociate like that.”

“Jealous?”

“Not at all. Sex with Veronica is a compounded gesture of how I feel for her. I _want_ to feel an emotional connection when we have sex. To me, that’s somewhat the point of it.”

“Orgasms are secondary?”

When Acxa hesitated Keith burst out laughing.

“You know what I mean,” she flashed a dish towel at him and he barely dodged, still cackling. “Sex by itself is just…bleh.”

“That’s because you’re shit at sex.”

“Sex isn’t a competition, there are no people who are better and worse at sex.”

“That’s what someone who’s never had god-tier sex would say.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. He grinned, blinking his lashes. She demanded: “Where do you keep your soy sauce?” He pointed. “And you? Do you and Lance have _god-tier_ sex?”

To her surprise, Keith actually blushed, though his fanged grin didn’t go away. “Yeah.”

She tossed shrimp and expertly shredded chicken into the wok blindly. “You like him.”

The look went away. “It’s not because of the sex why I like him.”

“There’s no shame in breaking away from the macho-man stereotype and catching feelings for a sex partner.”

He rubbed his hair vigorously.

“Why _do_ you like Lance? I admit to not knowing him very well, but from what I’ve seen he’s hardly your type. He’s loud and has the personality of an Addidas sandal.”

Keith burst out laughing.

“I thought you’d be mad I said that.”

“It’s just funny,” he hiccupped, “that so many people have him so wrong.”

She smiled. “Well, a lot of people get you wrong too. They think you’re some emo bad boy who works on motorcycles in his free time and probably steals cars for the Russian mafia when really you’re just cursed with resting bitch face and stare intently when you want to make friends.”

“I thought you were a cartographer, not a psychotherapist.”

She did not reply as she mixed the rice in. The wok sizzled again when she added soy sauce. “So? How wrong do I have Lance?”

Keith chuckled. “Addidas sandal,” he mumbled.

“Hey, answer me.”

He chuckled. “Hmm—I guess, one of the first things that comes to mind is that he’s attentive. He learns and remembers stuff about his friends and family. And he’s a shit liar, so I feel easy in his company. He’s honest to a fault, which is usually annoying but sometimes it’s endearing, and yeah he’s loud but sometimes that’s because he’s performing or hiding something. He gets loud when he’s embarrassed or nervous or wants to make a good impression. It’s a reflex he’s not proud of.”

“Oh, he’s aware of it.”

“ _Painfully_ aware of it. I tell him he has anxiety and he won’t believe me.”

Acxa dished out their food.

“He’s thoughtful though. He’s smart but you won’t know it until you get to know him and I mean _really_ get to know him and only then if he feels like you won’t judge him. He has weird and cool epiphanies sometimes. He’s one of the most emotionally intelligent people I know.”

“More so than Shiro?”

“ _Way_ more. Shiro’s a perpetual pressure cooker, you never know when he’s gonna pop.”

Acxa snorted. “Here.”

“Thanks, smells amazing. Wanna cook for the rest of the week?”

“Nnnrr…fine, but you do the laundry and clean the bathroom.”

“Sure.”

They sat beside one another and ate quietly. Acxa realized it just as Keith said it: “Where are the eggs?”

“Oh shit.”

“It’s okay.”

“No wait, wait. Pass your plate.”

“Do not do— _are you insane? Don’t crack that egg on your rice, what about salmonella!?”_

“Salmonella is a state of mind.”

_“IT IS NOT YOU FREAK!”_

-

Lance pressed his fingers against the bodice. “Inhale as deep as you can. How do you feel?”

“Better,” the model smiled at him. “No pricking.”

“Excellent,” and he quickly stitched something in place. “Come straight to me when you’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” He helped her off the podium and she moved swiftly to the wings. Another model with a defective headpiece rapidly took her place.

Backstage smelled like sweat and foundation. Models walked to and fro in various states of dress and black clad stage hands maneuvered between them speaking rapidly into their earpieces oscillating between Italian and English.

Coran appeared at his elbow just as he finished clipping a rose into place. “Alejandro _thank you._ You’ve saved me.”

“Of course, Mr. Smythe—there you go, that should hold, don’t whip your hair like Willow Smith—” and she rolled her eyes and smiled and moved—“it’s the least I can do as your fashion technician, right?”

“Even so, I promised your day off today.”

“Eh, give me a long weekend.”

“Deal.”

“Ha.” Another model came to him, one who needed to be cut out of her garb to wear another. He pushed a pin that was in his mouth into the pin cushion strapped to his left wrist. As he did so, he caught the time. “Where’s Allura?”

“She was working the floor, last I saw her. Someone was complaining about seating arrangements.”

“I bet its Honerva.”

“I was betting it was Ladnok.”

“Worse, it was my mother,” Allura appeared. “Hello, Lance. Sorry I couldn’t greet you earlier.”

“It’s pandemonium,” he hadn’t lifted his eyes or hands from his work once. “I don’t blame you—there you go, sweetie. Take this to Nyma for me? Thank you—next!”

Allura grasped his shoulder gratefully. “I have to go, but after the show many of us are going to retire to the grounds for snacks and conversation. If you have the time, _please_ come? I’m going to meet a potential investor.”

Lance whipped his head, “For the boutique?”

“Yes.” Her eyes glittered.

“Oh—well. I dunno, you know how I get when I’m nervous.”

“Just speak to him like you speak to the models and everything will be fine.”

“How I speak to the—Penelope, are you alright? Your mascara’s running.”

“It’s hot out there, all the lights,” the model laughed and lift her arms for Lance to cut her out of the bodice.

Lance was already engrossed and barely heard Coran bidding farewell. Allura tapped his shoulder. “If you change your mind see me before you leave!”

“Yeah,” he said over his shoulder.

Three hours later Lance was hiding on the roof freezing in the night and taking a well deserved break. He was getting a headache from the consistent focus. He _loved_ his work, loved using his hands, loved the human figure and how material could distend it. But he was also tired. He drank the beer he stole and rubbed the heel of his naked foot against the harsh material of the roof.

His phone pinged.

“Don’t be Allura don’t be Allura I love her but please don’t be Allura—oh.”

_SharpWork: home yet? (21:49)_

Lance felt the tension melt out of his shoulders.

_Me: no way. dead tho. wud luv a massage (21:49)_

_SharpWork: when are you home? I’ll give you one. (21:50)_

Lance straightened and pulled his knees up. “Oh, for real?” he felt his face splitting. “Sweet.”

_Me: a sexy massage? (21:51)._

_SharpWork: if thats what you want. (21:51)_

Lance scratched his ankle beneath his cuffed jeans and giggled. “So eager to please.”

_SharpWork: also acxa knows about us and shiro (21:52)_

“Fuck.”

_Me: fuck does Ronnie know? (21:53)_

_SharpWork: no. acxa and veronica are fighting apparently. acxa’s living with me for a while. (21:55)_

_Me: how long is a while? how did she find out? (21:56)_

_SharpWork: couple weeks. she saw the picture of you on my phone. (21:57)_

_Me: oh. (21:57)_

_SharpWork: the one where i dressed you up like a girl and got shiro to ruin your make up with his cum. (21:58)_

_Me: I KNOW WHICH ONE (22:00)_

_Me: bastard (22:00)_

_SharpWork: lol. text me when youre home. i’ll visit. wanna treat you today. (22:01)_

_Me: won’t complain but you treated me last time. (22:02)_

_SharpWork: Shut up, take my cock, and whine into the cushions like the good pillow princess you are, okay? (22:04)_

_“Fuck.”_

_Me: Yes sir. (22:04)_

_SharpWork: lol. (22:05)_

_Me: keith? a favor? (22:06)_

_SharpWork: what? (22:06)_

_Me: talk dirty to me a lil? (22:06)_

_SharpWork: why are you tryin to get a boner at work (22:07)_

_Me: you made me horny first! finish me off bastard (22:07)_

_SharpWork: wanna hear what amma do to you when you get home? (22:08)_

_Me: yea. (22:09)_

_SharpWork: i’ll take off your shoes and pants and shirt and make you wear the jersey i came over in. (22:10)_

_SharpWork: then i’ll take you to your room and we’ll build a pillow fort (22:11)_

Lance spluttered.

_Me: very sexy! (22:12)_

_SharpWork: you like pillow forts. shut up. (22:12)_

Lance hid his nose and cheeks in the crook of his elbow. He chimed, “I do.”

_SharpWork: we’ll decorate it with those silly fairy lights and everything. and you’ll lie on your back and twist your fingers in my hair while i kiss you. (22:14)_

Lance swallowed.

_SharpWork: may i hold your throat? (22:15)_

_Me: yea. (22:15)_

_SharpWork: i wont squeeze. i’ll just hold you. feel your pulse. and i’ll grind against you and you wrap your legs around my hips and that’s when you notice that i’m clothed and youre practically naked. (22:18)_

Lance let out a quick exhale and pressed the back of his head against the wall. _“Ngh.”_

_SharpWork: and then I’ll kiss your cheek your jaw your chin your throat your collar bones your sternum your ribs your belly and bite your hip (22:20)_

Lance felt himself getting hard. He shivered a little from the cold and a little more from the ghostly sensation of Keith’s hands on him.

_SharpWork: and then i’ll cockwarm you and finger you nice and slow the way you like when you feel aroused but can’t cum right away (22:23)_

_Me: I hate when you do that. (22:24)_

_SharpWork: shut up you love it. (22:24)_

Lance snorted. “I do.”

_SharpWork: and i’ll do that until you start squirming. and your hands are still in my hair and you use my face to get off. and then i’ll start fingering you harder in that brutal way you like when i keep hitting your sweet spot. (22:27)_

Lance gagged. “Don’t call it that.” But he was smiling.

_SharpWork: and i won’t let you come. i’ll just keep fingering and cockwarming you for hours. when you get up to use the bathroom i’ll be fingering you when you want to get something to eat i’ll be hanging off your cock. (22:29)_

Lance debated jerking off.

_SharpWork: and its when you can’t move anymore is when i’ll fuck you. i bet you’d start begging to come while we’re in the kitchen. then i’ll open the windows and let your neighbors see how you like to get railed. do you still have a crush on ryan? (22:32)_

_Me: don’t bring him into this. (22:33)_

_SharpWork: are you being serious or difficult? (22:33)_

_Me: …difficult. he’s hot. (22:34)_

_SharpWork: maybe next time we invite him over with shiro too. and then take turns breeding you. would you like that baby? would you like being passed among three men for hours and being denied release until you can’t stand? (22:36)_

_Me: yes. (22:37)_

Lance’s hand was down his pants. His feet thrashed, his cock _burned_ on contact. He moved in harsh jagged strokes.

_SharpWork: that’s too bad. i’m the only on—_

Lance’s phone rang.

 _“Gah!”_ he nearly dropped it. He wiped his hand on the outside of his skinny jeans hastily while he accepted the call. “Hello?”

 _“Lance,”_ said Allura, “ _have you left already? I asked you to see me before you go.”_

“I’m here! I’m here, I haven’t gone.” He gasped. “Just taking a breather. You need me?”

_“Have you changed your mind about coming with me and Coran to socialize with our potential investor? They seemed very impressed with tonight’s pieces and I’d love to show you off.”_

“I’m coming— _I mean I’ll be there!_ I’m there. I’m on my way. Back entrance?”

_“Yes. See you.”_

“Later, yeah.” He sighed when the call disconnected. He was almost sorry his boner had gone. He looked at his phone again to tell Keith to forget about coming over when he saw the last line.

_SharpWork: [redacted] (22:38)_

He frowned.

_Me: what was that? (22:41)_

_SharpWork: misspelled something. should i continue? (22:43)_

_Me: and get me hooked on this impregnation kink thing you got going on? absolutely. But lu and ran need me. (22:44)_

_SharpWork: got it. (22:44)_

_Me: we might not be able to meet up later. i expect i’ll be coming home in the morning. (22:46)_

_SharpWork: aw. next time. (22:46)_

_Me: yeah. lol. night keith. (22:47)_

_SharpWork: night Lance. (22:47)_

Lance exhaled, brought the phone to his chest and focused. He wanted Keith’s hands on him so badly all of a sudden. His very skin felt tender from the absence of his lover.

“Quiet,” he psyched himself. “Don’t bother with the feelings crap. At least not yet.”

His body didn’t listen, and the phantom whispers of a Keith that was never there kept him at half chub the entire walk down the stairs.

-

“Stop sexting Lance in front of me.”

“I’m not.”

“And I’m not looking at your erection.”

Keith looked.

“Ha. Made you look.”

Keith chucked a cushion in her face.

-

Shiro had assumed the natural position for detoxing after a day of work. His bowl was full of unbroken KitKat bars, his thermos was full of sweet, warm milk, the floor that he made into his nest was overflowing with cushions, his hood was up, his socks were warm, his laptop glowed green with successful pirates of cheesy dramas and documentaries.

Then his phone vibrated.

“Ack.” He had to stretch to reach it. He unplugged the USB charged hooked to his laptop. “Adam?”

_Adam_White: he loves documentaries on deep space and the deep ocean. he’s single, pan. he works at the architecture firm Smythe & Marmora. late-thirties. excellent hygiene. (22:29)_

Shiro broke one KitKat bar free and frowned. “Adam, what the heck are you—”

Then the picture appeared with a trill beneath it. A striking fellow with a wide jaw, awesome shoulders that filled out a white dress shirt, thick lips parted in a virgin killer smirk, dark skin—south Asian descent, maybe? Ropes of glossy black hair, and he had an enviable shadow spanning his chin and cheeks.

Shiro laughed.

_Me: what model’s blog did you pull this pic from? (22:31)_

_Adam_White: you wound me shiro. he’s real. (22:31)_

_Me: I don’t doubt he’s real. I doubt that he’s real as in you spoke with him without drooling. (22:33)_

_Adam_White: one: I did not drool but it was a near thing. Two: he’s REAL real. And he’s your type. (22:34)_

Shiro rolled on his back and whimpered in dissent.

_Me: I don’t have a type. (22:35)_

_Adam_White: oh please. Me, Curtis, that short crush you had for lance when you were still tutoring him. (22:38)_

_Me: you forget Matt. (22:40)_

_Adam_White: matt is the outlier—you like ‘em tall, dark and handsome, if they’re leggy and submissive that’s right up your ally too. (22:43)_

_Me: oof, this callout. (22:44)_

_Adam_White: conceal. Should I work my magic and set you guess up? He’s single. (22:45)_

_Me: I’m not interested. (22:45)_

_Adam_White: in HIM? are you BLIND? The guy’s a walking billboard, he’d turn straights gay! (22:47)_

_Me: he’s handsome and sounds wonderful but I’m really digging the single life rn. Thanks for thinking of me. (22:46)_

_Adam_White: you’re going solo on the Netflix and chill aren’t you (22:49)_

_Me: how dare you. (22:50)_

_Me: I don’t have Netflix. (22:50)_

_Adam_White: I don’t judge but you stay celibate for another year you’ll start having wet dreams again. (22:52)_

_Me: sounds great, takes the work out of it for me, sign me up (22:53)_

_Me: is that a real thing by the way? That if I don’t get enough sex I’ll start cumming in my sleep? (22:55)_

_Adam_White: whatever. (22:55)_

_Adam_White: dunno. You’ll be able to tell us soon enough. (22:55)_

_Me: jackass. I’ll have you know I get off fine. Single doesn’t mean celibate fyi (22:57)_

_Adam_White: look at you! leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you are we? The hit and run lifestyle doesn’t sound like you tbh. So who’s the lucky guy? (22:59)_

Shiro was looking at the picture Adam sent him when he lazily swiped right waiting for another reply. He jumped at the picture of Lance that faced him. He forgot that Keith sent him the picture.

Good grief what a night that had been. In a word: _intense._ From beginning to end the air around Keith and Lance had been charged. Shiro got goosebumps in remembrance. There were a thousand things unspoken in the way Keith had presented Lance, gorgeous Lance, uncharacteristically docile and feverishly wanton. There was a clear way Keith possessed him in his demands, in the way he held him, kissed him, invited Shiro to participate, and Lance was absolute putty in his hands and voice. Shiro didn’t know people had the ability to give themselves up that wholly before he saw the sheer _trust_ in Lance’s eyes.

And Keith was a different form of creature when he dominated as well. Shiro sighed. His smiles were laced with everything his mama warned him about. His eyes were dark and big and expressive and his skin was alive, pink with either exertion or pride. When he held Lance by the hips was when he lost his composure. It was as though in that moment he were giving up himself to Lance in turn. The transition from self-assured crime boss to drooling, hiccupping mess falling apart at the seams…

Shiro felt himself stirring. He palmed himself through his sweats and looked at the picture once more.

Lance, sleepily smiling over his shoulder, had his eye shadow and lipstick dragged across his face like the Joker. His naked shoulder glistened from glitter and sweat and semen and his wig was splayed in impossibly parallel platinum streaks offsetting his skin. In the corner of the photo was Keith’s hand, his thumb resting lovingly behind his ear. In full view was Shiro’s flaccid cock.

Shiro groaned and rolled his thumb over his glans. Lance had a great mouth too. He was so hungry with his tongue, so generous with the back of his throat. He’d tangled his fingers into Shiro’s slacks and choked himself gleefully.

Shiro took himself out and tried to imitate the sensations. He whimpered, throwing his head back, remembering remembering _Keith’s eyes._ How Keith had looked at him helplessly as he tried not to come, how he’d willingly kissed Shiro, how their lips rolled together sweetly, softly…

Shiro was sorry he didn’t have a second hand. He had the urge to finger himself too. How might either of them do it, he wondered? Lance might be eager to please. Keith might make _him_ eager to please. Or perhaps at once, someone on his cock and someone else spearing him open?

He grit his teeth. He placed the soles of his feet on the floor and thrust into his hands. His fantasies pooled together, borrowing pieces of his memories and throwing them against a new forming set of kinks at the back of his mind.

His phone went off again and he jerked in surprise. He reluctantly let himself go—and his erection bounced in the air sadly—to see what Adam had to—

_Keith_Kogane: hey. checking up on you. haven’t spoken much since the last time you were over. which was awesome btw we really enjoyed it. we never really talked over what we were looking for out of this, for it to be a long time thing or if that was just a one off. if interested wanna grab some donuts at the pier with me and lance sunday? our treat. you free? (23:21)_

Shiro lifted his thumb to reply. Before he did his phone rattled again.

_Keith_Kogane: or if youre not into doing any of this again at all tats COMPLETELY okay too. We still wanna have donuts with you on the pier tho. (23:22)_

Shiro laughed. Two messages but it felt like a microcosm of his experience with them two weekends ago. One moment they were running hot, the next Keith was kissing Lance’s knees in apology.

_Me: Thanks for having me. I enjoyed myself last time, and would love to talk things over with you two. But I gotta ask: isn’t there something between you two? Won’t I be interrupting what you guys have going on? (23:24)_

_Keith_Kogane: we want you to be a part of what we have going on. but its just sex. there’s care, obv, and wouldnt fuck if he hated each other. but its just sex. (23:27)_

Shiro possessed strong doubts. All the same, he agreed to a time and place.

By then his mostly despondent erection had drooped and he stroked it languidly before noticing an unread message from Adam.

_Adam_White: so who’s the lucky guy? (22:59)_

Shiro bit his bottom lip in thought.

He smiled.

 _Me:_ _my type and an outlier. (23:39)_


End file.
